Team Fortress the Squirrel
by BeautifulDoom
Summary: Foamy the Squirrel episodes with the cast of Team Fortress 2.
1. Pancake Madness

"Oh yeah, pourin' the syrup. Doo doo doo, syrup on the pancakes…" Scout sang as he sat in the little diner in town. He was in a booth with Sniper and was busy pouring an almost lethal amount of syrup on his pancakes. He continued to sing and hum even as the syrup overflowed his plate and began to spread over the table. Sniper set his coffee down and stared at the growing gooey puddle in distaste.

"Scout…" He said. Scout didn't seem to hear him as he continued to pour the syrup.

"Scout…" Now the puddle had reached Sniper's own coffee mug.

"Scout!" Sniper raised his voice only slightly.

"Everybody get the syrup on the pancakes!" Scout finished as he put the syrup down.

"Scout!" Sniper shouted. The table was now covered in the sticky syrup.

"Yeah, what's up there ya freaky freak?" Scout said casually as if he hadn't just nearly drowned the table in syrup.

"Mongrel, relax on the syrup already," said Sniper as he attempted to pry his mug off the table.

"But I like the syrup," Scout said matter-of-factly. "This sugary goo is all that is needed to make these ass-tasting pancakes taste good. No syrup, no eat." He finished dramatically. Sniper sighed heavily.

"Look, you're getting it all over the table," Sniper said, gesturing to the syrup that was now dripping onto the floor.

"A minor technicality," Scout said dismissively. "Besides, I don't hafta clean this shit up."

Sniper rolled his eyes at that. He had been taught at a young age to respect the people who worked hard to clean up after ungrateful customers like this annoying Scout. He glared at Scout over the tops of his sunglasses.

"Don't be obnoxious," he growled. Scout's eyes narrowed.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Take this." He picked up the bottle and squirted a huge glob of syrup at Sniper. It landed on his face, staining the lenses of his glasses. Sniper drew back in surprise and anger, he hadn't expected such childish behavior even if it was from Scout.  
"What the fuck is wrong with ya, ya wankah?" He said, removing his glasses.

"Haha," Scout laughed mockingly. "Ya got syrup on your head. You're all sticky!" He stuck his tongue out at the raging Aussie.

"I'll kill ya, bloody drongo!" Sniper said, dropping his glasses onto the table. Scout quickly held the bottle of syrup higher.

"Threaten me, will ya? Have some more!" He began to repeatedly squirt Sniper with the syrup until his whole face was covered in the goo. He blindly felt around the table and found the knife that was resting next to his fork. He threw it at Scout and unfortunately missed.

"Whoa!" Scout said as he glanced at the knife that was imbedded just an inch from his shoulder in the booth's seat. He watched Sniper claw at his face for a moment before flagging down a waitress.

"Can I get these to go?" He asked. "Someone (he glared at Sniper) is being disagreeable." The waitress just sighed as she thought of all the scrubbing she would have to do later.


	2. Walkie Talkies

Dell the BLU Engineer sighed to himself as he sank further into the bath water. The battle had been a tough one, and nothing helped him relax and recuperate afterwards like a nice hot bath. Pyro's rubber duckie was floating around in the tub (only because Pyro had demanded that anyone who used the bath tub HAD to let his precious duckie have some swimming time). The tub that Dell was currently occupying was the only one in the base. The other tubs had been ripped out and replaced with shower stalls, leaving this particular bathroom the only one to hold such a luxury. Of course, this bathroom was also on the opposite side of the base from the other bathrooms so Dell didn't expect to be bothered.

"Scout ta Engie, Scout ta Engie. Come in Engie, ovah."

Oops, he spoke to soon. Dell rolled his eyes and dug a walkie talkie out of his discarded suspenders that lay on the floor.

"What is it?" He spoke into the walkie.

"I need ta get inta the bathroom, ovah," came Scout's response. Oh God, not this again. Scout had always found some way to interrupt Dell's relaxing time, and had done this several times before. He had always argued about needing to urgently use the bathroom, and therefore needing Dell to remove himself from the tub and from the room so that he could do his business. Dell had argued that the other bathrooms were unoccupied and Scout could just as easily go use one of them Scout would always whine back that he couldn't hold it long enough to run over there. Dell had always known that it was a bullshit excuse and that Scout just wanted to annoy him. Dell had always gone back to his bath after Scout had finished (having to refill the tub because Scout would drain it to 'not hafta see any gross man water,' whatever that meant), but the mood had always been broken.

"Can't it wait?" Dell argued anyway. "I'm in the tub right now, son."

"That's a negative, ovah," Scout said, mocking Soldier's military tone. Dell growled low, clenching the walkie talkie tighter.

"Ya know," he said, hoping to stall, "when I built these walkie talkies to keep in contact with the team I meant fer them to be used on the battlefield, not when you're in the next room."

"Yeah well, if ya weren't hoggin' that room, I wouldn't be in this one, and then I'd be in there. So there, ovah." Scout rattled out. Dell blinked.

"What?" He asked.

"Ya heard me, ovah." Scout said. Dell hmmphed. No way in hell was that Scout interrupting his bath this time. He was putting his foot down.

"I'm turnin' this off," he said. His hand went for the switch, but Scout's voice came back.

"I'm gonna pee on your new boots if ya don't let me in, ovah!" Scout shouted. Dell about threw the walkie against the wall in frustration. The little brat had won once again.

"Dammit!" Dell cursed to himself. "I'll be right out," he said to Scout. "I hate when he pees on my boots," He grumbled to himself. Scout really needed to stop hanging around Sniper. Dell set the walkie aside and was about to get out when the rubber duckie suddenly exploded in a blast of blood. Dell once again blinked and stared at the remains of the duckie.

"What the hell?" He mumbled in confusion.


	3. Inner Demons

Medic was depressed.

Yes, he was a man, yes he was a doctor, and yes he fought several bloody and tragic battles without batting an eye. But he was still human, and that gave him the right to be depressed sometimes. Of course he wasn't depressed without a good reason. This week, well this _day, _marked the anniversary of the divorce from his wife.

No one in the base knew that he had been married, his wedding photo hidden away in a trunk in his room, so no one could seem to understand why their doctor was acting more distant and cold than usual. Soldier had blamed it on Medic not having any guinea pigs for his 'freakish Nazi experiments', but the rest of the team had figured that Medic was a smart man and therefore knew what he was doing. They all decided to just give him his space and wait for him to get over it.

Well… almost everyone.

Medic was in his office, he was supposed to be doing paperwork, but instead he was looking at the wedding photo of him and his darling Ursel. He sighed heavily and held the photo close. It had been so long since the divorce, but he still allowed himself this one day to mourn his loss.

Suddenly, his office door burst open. Medic jammed the photo into a nearby drawer and picked up his pen while glaring at the man that had dared intrude on his mourning. That man in question was Demo, and he was followed closely by Sniper and Scout. Medic raised an eyebrow as he looked over Scout. Scout was clutching a can of Bonk in a shaking hand. He had a manic grin on his face and his eyes were opened wide. Medic went back to glaring at Demo and folded his arms.

"Vhat do you vant?" He asked. Demo puffed himself up in pride.

"Been doin' some research," he said. "I've discovered tha' yer depression is caused by inner demons."

Medic rolled his eyes and huffed, annoyed that he had let his mask slip and emotions show.

"Ve all have our inner demons," he said. Demo grinned.

"No' anymore ya don'. Scout, Sniper, and I have decided to cure ya of yer demon possession by a sacred Scottish Cult 'demon be gone' ritual." He said. Medic's brows knitted in confusion. He opened his mouth to say something, but Demo interrupted.

"LIGHTS!" He cried out expectantly. When nothing happened, he glanced back at Scout who suddenly froze, the can of Bonk at his lips.

"Oh my God, gotta get the lights, CLICK!" And the room was plunged into darkness.

"Vas ist-" Was all Medic managed to say before something hard hit him and knocked him out.

"Oh sacred spirits of th' Scottish Cult," Medic heard a voice say as he slowly came to, "cast the demons away that torment this dumb, dumb, German." Had he just been insulted? Medic opened his eyes to see that they were now outside. Demo was in front of him wearing some odd hat while Sniper and Scout were behind him. Scout was shaking even more now and still clutching a can of Bonk. Medic scowled and moved to stand, but found himself tied down to some kind of bench. He struggled briefly and growled German curses, but Demo nonchalantly continued.

"And now for the sacred Scottish Cult hand gesture," he slid on what looked like a boxing glove. "DEMON BE GONE!" He punched Medic in the face. Medic cried out in pain as his now cracked glasses slid from his face. He glared at Demo, wishing every horrible death possible on him.

"How do ya feel?" Demo eagerly asked. Medic cursed again.

"Aggravated," was his answer. Demo looked thoughtful.

"Guess I just have ta try again," he said, rearing his fist back. "DEMON BE GONE!" He punched Medic again.

This continued for an hour. Afterwards, Medic's face was a bruised mess. One eye was swollen shut, and the rest was covered in blood.

"I think it's hopeless," Sniper said.

"My God, hopeless," Scout twitched. Medic looked up at them, hating that they had not helped him.

"Vhy do you hate me?" he managed to croak. Now that tugged at Sniper's heart.

"I don't think it's working," he said. He made to go untie Medic, but Demo held him back.

"Nonsense," he said. "He just needs ta be smacked harder is all. DEMON BE GONE!" He punched Medic as hard as he could. Medic cried out again as a wave of his blood hit the dirt.

"How do ya feel?" Demo asked. Medic gave them all his 'certified doctor death glare'.

"Vell," he said, "I am not depressed anymore, just filled viz a psychotic hatred for Scots!"

"Another success!" Demo cried, tossing his glove away. "All hail the power of the Scottish Cult!"

Sniper untied Medic and helped him clean his face and put his glasses back on. Medic suddenly snatched up the discarded glove and turned his death glare to Demo.

"I show _you _'inner demons,'" he growled, reciprocating every punch Demo had given him.

"Ow!" Demo yelled as he backed up. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Medic continued punching him even as Scout took off running.

"He's on the loose he is," Sniper chuckled at the show of karma.

"RUN FOR YOUR LIFE FROM THE FLAILING ARMS OF THE ANGRY GERMAN!" Scout shouted.


	4. Amityville Toaster

Dell was busy cooking himself some breakfast. He was delicately flipping his fired eggs lest the yolk break. He heard someone come in behind him, but ignored them in favor of the bacon that was sizzling in the pan. He finally glanced over when he saw movement next to him and saw that it was none other than Scout that was standing at the table. A box was clutched in his hands, and he seemed very excited. Dell moved his food onto a plate and went to sit at the table.

"Can I help ya, son?" He asked. Scout eagerly took the seat next to him and pulled something out of his box. It looked like a red toaster with a devil face on the side.

"Look what I got from that auction up the road," said Scout. Dell glanced at the item curiously.

"What is it?" He asked. Scout smiled.

"It's a toaster from that haunted house in Amityville," he explained. "Amityville!" Now Dell was confused.

"Ya bought a haunted toaster?" He said in disbelief. Scout snatched a piece of bread from an abandoned plate.

"Watch," he said, "this is cool. Ya put in regular old white bread and…" He pushed it down into the toaster and waited. Soon afterwards, the toast popped back up, but it was brown instead of white.

No way, it had to be a trick of the light. Dell took the toast and examined it. He took a bite and his eyes widened behind his goggles.

"Wheat toast?" He said. "How did ya end up with wheat toast?" Scout chuckled.

"No one knows," he said. "What's even cooler is when ya put in wheat bread, ya get pumpernickel, and when ya put in pumpernickel, ya get a blueberry muffin!"

"Bullshit," said Dell, folding his arms in a gesture of skepticism. Scout rolled his eyes and went to the cupboard.

"Oh yeah," he said, digging around, "fine. It just so happens there's some pumpernickel bread right here." He pulled out a slice of pumpernickel bread and pushed it into the toaster. A minute or so later, two halves of a blueberry muffin popped out.

"Whoa," Dell said, in awe of what had happened. This was something he'd have to take to his shop to take apart and study. His hand twitched towards the toaster, but Scout moved it aside to grab the muffin halves.

"See?" He said proudly, "Blueberry muffin!"

"That's freaky," Dell said. Oh it was freaky, but in the best way. Dell was almost drooling over the toaster. He had to see it do more.

"What happens if ya put a bagel in there?" He asked. Scout dug around for a bagel.

"Good question!" He held one up and stuck it in the toaster. Two slabs of meat popped up a minute later. Dell blinked and took his goggles off to see better.

"Is… is that a pork chop?" He asked in disbelief. Scout seemed to sulk.

"Awe man," he said. "What a gyp. I was hoping for one of those toasty cakes." Dell picked the meats up and examined them both. They were real alright and even bled a little when he squeezed them. He smiled excitedly and set the meats aside on a plate.

"Try waffles," he said. Scout hesitated and grimaced.

"Ya know," he said, "the guy who sold it said not to use waffles." Dell's smile fell in disappointment.

"Why?" he asked. Scout shrugged.

"Dunno. Something about getting back a toasted human hand or something. Just don't fuck around with it." He stole Dell's plate and left the room. Dell looked back at the toaster, the gears in his mind turning fiercely.

Scout came back a bit later to see Sniper cooking the two pork chops on the stove. Dell was still at the table and staring at the toaster. Scout shrugged and went to grab some Bonk when he heard the toaster ding. He looked over to see Dell staring at a charred hand.

"Cream gravy," he said in awe. "It's a toasted human hand." Scout growled and went over to Dell.

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT USING WAFFLES?" He shouted. Dell rolled his eyes, snatched the toaster up, and fled to his workshop.

That night the team heard the low voice of Dell sing through the base:

"The Amityville toaster. Make breakfast spooky. Spooky talk from toaster, spooky eat-me toast. Yum, yum, yum. Human hand."

No one knew what to make of it.


	5. The Fat Song

Heavy put the finishing touches on his sandvich and sat down to enjoy it. The rest of the team was elsewhere, giving him the mess hall to himself. The peace and quiet was very nice, however rare it was to find it. He had just taken a bit when Scout walked in and saw him. Scout's face lit up with a wicked grin and he went to stand across from Heavy.

Heavy raised an eyebrow as he chewed his second bite. He mentally sighed, knowing what was coming.

"_Hey…_" Scout sang. Well, that was new.

"_I just wrote a song about sometin' that's wrong._

_And it starts at your ass, cuz it's blowin' up fast."_

Heavy took another bite and tuned Scout out. Medic had told him before that ignoring the loudmouth was the best way to get rid of him. Scout looked undeterred, now throwing in Broadway-like hand gestures to accompany his singing.

"_Well…_

_I'm surprised ya can fit inta this room _

_With your giant fat ass and your huge man boobs_

_Such a sad sight ta see that face_

_While your giant fat ass is engulfin' the place."_

Scout whipped out a sticky note that read 'FAT' and stuck it onto Heavy's forehead. Heavy calmly took the note off and crumpled it up.

"_So…_" Scout continued, as if revealing the grand finale.

"_It's time ya took the sandwhich outta your lips_

_It's gone ta your thighs and straight for ya hips_

_Stop eating now before it's too late_

_Just have a salad and a couple of grapes!"_ Scout struck a pose and looked to Heavy as if expecting applause or a shout of rage, but Heavy wasn't stupid. He continued to eat his sandvich and didn't say a word. Scout stood up straight and growled.

"Ya fat bald bastard! Stop eating!" He shouted. Heavy rolled his eyes.

"Song was horrible," he said. Scout folded his arms and sputtered angrily.

"Ya don't like it cuz it's based in truth," he said. Heavy ignored him.  
"Worst song ever," he muttered, still eating his sandvich. Scout growled again.

"Like ya have any talent!" he said. "All ya can do is put things in ya mouth. And no," he added almost as an afterthought, "I'm not gonna make a comment on an obvious joke about you and Medic. That's what makes me bettah than everyone else." He turned around and stomped out, leaving Heavy alone. Heavy just shrugged and finished his sandvich.


End file.
